The best part of taking writing classes at the Loft is the crushes you get on the entire class. Seriously, I love this new class, I just want to squish them all.
Okay, that’s the second best part. The really best part is sitting next to Kelly and trading looks, whispered snarky comments, and short notes.
Last night I scribbled in my Calendar (it’s what I use to write various things down) “I *heart* the Grad.” She subtly nodded her head and knew exactly what I was talking about.
Grad was actually short for The Graduate, the cutest blonde-kid ever who, on the first night of class, told us how he had just graduated from college in the spring. So he’s 23 tops. Of course he’s so adorable and so exuberant and so blondly-innocent that he makes me feel all coo-coo-ka-choo.
The Graduate is easily my favorite new classmate (there are quite a few repeat offenders in the class Kelly being only one of six repeaters), my second favorite is Vonnegut.
Last term we had Salinger who was really kind of an asshole, and earned his nickname by dismissing Kelly’s story out of hand because he had read Catcher in the Rye and was ‘so over coming age stories.’
Vonnegut earned his name because he’s about the same age as the real Vonnegut, wears glasses like storm windows, and bears a passing resemblance to Vonnegut. But what sealed the deal on the nickname was when he told us how he writes a political haiku a day. So awesome. And even awesomer? Last night when we were talking about this story about a Stuntman, Vonnegut tried to discuss the socio-political threads in the story and how the Stuntman was sort of motivated by the man keeping him down. He even compared the Stuntman to people working in corporate America and how they make a deal with the devil by working for souless, heartless corporations.
I thought my face was gonna crack open I was smiling so big and I nearly peed my pants from trying to contain my laughter.
I’m going to chime in on the graduate and say that he’s as great as a bright shiny new penny. And if I was 23, I would TOTALLY want to do him.
And Vonnegut is a stitch. Plus he always raises his hand to speak so Dale has to call on him. You can watch the words bubble in his mouth and he wants so desperately to say something but then just shakes his head.
Love it. Although my personal favorites are Boobs and Throwback.
Boobs is obvious but who is Throwback? And I couldn’t look at the graduate last night without giggling — I could care less about the age difference (more like chasm) but I do have a pesky husband who objects to me making too big a fool out of myself.
Boobs? BOOBS? Do tell!
UH, you are like Yogi Bear and pic-a-nic baskets.
Hey hey, booboob!
With the Twins in the hunt for the AL pennant, traffic for class could be wacky. Check that baseball schedule and don’t arrive late.
This means YOU.
Have I ever been late to meet YOU? hmmm mr. smartypants friendboy?